The Vizier
by Chet Gecko
Summary: References pilot,"One of Us" and S5 finale. Richard returns from Miami where he recorded Juliet's sister and son to find a plane crashed. Richard,Jacob,Ben,Juliet,Ilana implied. Thanks to Vampirate10493 for Spanish trans. Vielen danke to Sputty.
1. Chapter 1

"Save me from this prison  
Lord, help me get away  
'Cause only you can save me now  
From this misery

Well I've been lost in my own place  
And I'm getting' weary  
How far is heaven?

I've been locked up way too long  
In this crazy world  
How far is heaven?  
I just keep on prayin', Lord  
I just keep on livin'  
How far is heaven?

Tu que estas en alto cielo echame tu bendicion."

Heaven, Los Lonely Boys, 2004

I

September 22, 2004 -- Acadia Park, Miami, Florida

"…You'll want to get back here as soon as you can. We may have some new visitors."

Richard switched off the palm-sized camera and continued to stare past the newspaper he had previously been pretending to read. In truth he was transmitting video of a slight, brown haired, thirty-something mother and her tow-headed blond little daredevil of a son. No one seemed to notice him watching her, watching them on the playground. He hid his interest behind the business section of the day's Miami Journal and a Grande Americano from Starbucks. The subterfuge was intended to persuade a frustrated, homesick doctor thousands of miles away to continue her research in spite of the conviction that her work had reached a dead end and further testing would continue to be futile. Dr. Juliet Burke needed proof that her sister and nephew were well so here he sat, like someone out of a pulp-fiction spy novel, trying not to look like a pedophile. Strictly speaking, a man alone on a park bench so near a playground, not readily identifiable as father to one of the children playing, is often assumed by other adults in the area to be a suspicious and dangerous character.

Richard watched them a while longer. They looked so happy, laughing and playing together. There was no outward evidence that just a few years earlier the mother had been ravaged nearly to death by a pervasive, untreatable cancer. Yet here they are miracle mother and her miracle son, arm-in-arm, hand-in-hand; riotously swinging and sliding, tagging and tickling, reveling in the wonder that is childhood. The good doctor would call what he was doing emotional blackmail. Their leader might label it insurance. He intended it to be assurance.

Richard himself had come up with the cockamamie plan. It seemed the most humane and compassionate thing to do. Under no circumstances Ben would to allow Dr. Burke to return to her home in Florida. Richard reasoned if he could reassure Juliet of her family's health and safety it might give her some comfort and make her a little less miserable while continuing to live, for all intents and purposes, as their prisoner on the Island. Ben only cared that she was more compliant, cooperative and served his purposes. From the sobs and desperate pleading he had overheard coming from the other end of his transmission, Richard was certain it had not worked. She was not comforted. She was devastated. "Pay no attention to the man behind the newspaper!" Richard scoffed sarcastically to himself, "The great and powerful Oz has…failed."

When he recruited Dr Burke to come to the Island three years ago it was ostensibly to do research, to solve the problem of infant and maternal mortality. No babies had been born alive; no mothers had lived to carry a fetus to term in better than thirty years. She had agreed partly from an altruistic wish to save lives but also from an ambitious, frank assessment of what success in this difficult avenue of research would do for her career. Back in those days Juliet Burke and Benjamin Linus were using each other as means to their own desired ends. It appeared balanced, mutual and civilized. But now, the relationship was revealed to be about power and control; and it seemed Ben was in sole possession of both.

A murmur of voices caught his attention; his lingering presence had been noted by a group of mothers at a picnic table nearby. They cast accusing glares and agitated glances his direction over fistfuls of goldfish crackers and peanut butter with jelly sandwiches. It was time to leave. Richard pocketed the camera, calmly folded the newspaper and gulped the last of his coffee before sauntering back toward the parking lot. "All I have managed to do is make the poor woman more miserable if that was even possible." he observed, dropping both the paper and empty cup in the trash, flashing a dazzling smile and brisk nod to the concerned parents as he left.

Richard tossed his jacket in the backseat before starting the engine of his non-descript beige mid-size rental car. No upgrades on this trip; no amenities to draw attention to himself. His success today had depended upon being invisible. The previous trip to Miami when this entanglement with Juliet began had been all about Armani, McCutcheon and the Ritz-Carlton; fine dining and luxury cars. He had presented the image to Dr. Burke of power, success and an unlimited availability of funds to support her wildest research dreams and ambitions. This trip was about blending in.

It was an uneventful commute back to the airport in spite of rush hour traffic. He returned the car, checked his one bag, passed through security without incident and arrived at his departure gate well before the first boarding call.

Richard stepped in to one of the few remaining restaurants in the airport to allow smoking, a sports bar on his concourse, for a quick cigar and a drink to pass the time. Normally he would be content to read a novel at the gate or quietly "people watch" but today he was restless; his thoughts remained on Rachel and her son. "I'll take a Scotch please" he politely asked the bartender, "a double, neat" then turned his back slightly away from the entrance and its passing crowds of travelers, away too from the ubiquitous flat screen TVs blaring the latest baseball games and MTV videos of scantily clad young women and rough looking young men with wild haircuts, multiple piercings and tattoos.

He reviewed their dealings with Rachel as he sipped on his drink. He felt good about her healthy prognosis. Because of the Island, because of Jacob, because of forces he could not begin to understand her cancer was gone forever and she was able to bear a child. What concerned him about the situation was that the child would never know the love and affection of his devoted Aunt Juliet and that neither he nor his mother would ever know how much Juliet had paid with her life so that they could live. Children, especially, need a whole host of people around who love them unconditionally. "Like their aunts." Richard said aloud to no one but himself, then after a moment added "like their fathers."

Richard shifted on his barstool uncomfortably and waved away the eager bartender inquiring about a refill. He stared down into his empty glass and resisted the urge to light another cigar. Yes, today he felt restless, restless and old. Forty-one is middle age and certainly not old by 21st Century standards. He, however, had been forty-one for a very long time.

In his life "before" – before he came to the Island, before he met Jacob -- he had been a sailor. Richard moved his family from their home in Barcelona to find a better life in London. He had heard the infamous Magnus Hanso was sailing his Black Rock ship for Siam. He was seduced by Hanso's promises of glory and riches. Tempted by his own appetite for danger and adventure, Richard left his beloved Isabel with their boys, Diego and Esteban, nearly men they had been at 14 and 16, and the baby Milagros, the delight and joy of his life, just five years old, with dark curls, flashing eyes and dimples like her mother. He left them in 1845 to be Hanso's second in command, the Ship's First Mate, and had never seen them again. A pain went through his heart at the thought of his life long ago. "In nomine patris, et filius, et spiritu sanctus." Richard genuflected out of habit at their memory. Isabel had been Catholic. They all were Catholic back then in Spain. He was unsure what or who he believed in now after so long a life.

He marveled at what his choices had cost his family. He had seen enough of humanity's selfishness over the years to recognize it in himself and his decisions. His children had needed their father. His wife had needed her husband. He had not appreciated then how much he needed them. How had his family survived? When did they give up on him ever returning and move on? What became their fate? Had they had stayed in England or returned to her family in Spain?

There had been a violent storm which ran the Black Rock aground an impossible distance inland. He was mortally wounded. Like Dr. Burke's sister Rachel, he would have died without Jacob's touch. He never asked Jacob why he had saved him in particular instead of one of the others, or the captain. More than a century and a half later, Richard found himself still working as second-in-command to a series of captains just like Hanso, though not on a ship but an island. He had become the vizier, the power broker behind the Island's chosen leader. He advised, made recommendations, carried out their wishes. Leaders would come and go, but Richard remained and in the end answered only to Jacob for his deeds.

Richard's life before setting sail had become a blur, a faded, unfocused, sepia-toned photograph; In contrast his life from the storm at sea to awakening with Jacob in the Temple was a blank, just nothingness; and his life on the Island, while lived in a visual paradise of vibrant tropical colors, was some days – like today, neither black nor white nor beautiful but simply arduous and long.

The announcement came over the loudspeaker to begin boarding his flight. Rousing from his reverie Richard signaled the bartender for his tab and gathered his jacket and boarding pass. At the same time a special report interrupted the broadcast on the lone television tuned to news rather than sports or music.

"….As we reported earlier, there is no confirmation of a crash at this time however it has been several hours since the last transmission from the aircraft was received. Thus far there is no evidence of mechanical malfunction or foul play, and the national weather service indicates no adverse weather conditions along the flight path of the aircraft. FAA and NTSB officials are currently investigating. Again, Oceanic Airways scheduled Flight 815 out of Sydney, Australia has failed to arrive at Los Angeles International Airport this afternoon. We will have updates for you as more information becomes available." The ticker continued to scroll across the bottom of the screen as the CNN reporter moved on to other breaking stories: 324 people on board the Boeing 777 when it deviated from course and disappeared off radar over the Pacific Ocean.

The broadcast preoccupied his thoughts as he boarded the aircraft. He was not a nervous flier, as the bubbly flight attendant so obviously supposed from his grim expression. Settling into his seat he accepted the pillow but refused the headphones the eager young woman offered. He planned to ignore the in-flight movie. It was not any dread or foreboding about his flight that caused him unrest. It was that other plane, the one from Sydney, and Ben's cryptic last words to him about hurrying back to the island because of new visitors, that he could not dismiss. Even so at some point between the flight crew's instructions about how to use his seat cushion as a flotation device and the first offer of drinks and cocktail peanuts Richard drifted off into a fitful sleep, taunted by nightmarish images of a plane breaking up mid air, bodies and baggage falling from the sky to be consumed by a whirlwind of black smoke.

Author's notes on Chapter One:

"The Ancient Egyptian government included the powerful position of Vizier who answered only to Pharaoh and was charged with the entire operation of the government as well as the protection of palace and Pharaoh himself. The Vizier was supervisor of all other officials. Viziers were appointed to their posts on the basis of demonstrating extreme loyalty, exceptional talent and military prowess." quoted from an article housed at the Minnesota State University - Mankato web site

Information about the Black Rock and Mangus Hanso was taken from the apocryphal article "Find 815" at Lostpedia and is not considered strictly canon to the show.

Richard's wife and children are of course from my own imagination.

The quote at the top of the story is from the song Heaven by Los Lonely Boys. The Spanish line loosely translates: You that are in a higher place send me down a blessing.


	2. Chapter 2

II

September 24, 2004, The Island

About a day and a half later when Richard arrived on the Island via submarine, the same one once used by the Dharma Initiative to transport their recruits in secrecy from civilization, his suspicions were confirmed. Oceanic Flight 815 was not lost at all but lying in a broken twisted heap on his beach while bloody fragments of bodies and fuselage littered his jungle.

"What is going on here, Ben?"

"Hello, Richard," the man answered calmly, "Welcome back." Peering up with steely blue eyes from over the top of his reading glasses toward the man standing in the doorway before him "What does it look like? This is what is known as damage control."

"What do you mean by damage control?" Richard cautiously responded, just as evenly, "What exactly are you doing?"

In short order he learned Ben had already accounted for casualties and injuries (but not treated them) and infiltrated the ranks of surviving passengers to gather information about them (but not to inform them).

"A plane full of people just crashed on the Island. Why do you not simply help them? Treat their wounded. Bury their dead." interrupted Richard with growing impatience, what seemed to him to be the most obvious course of action.

"…and for once," he thought to himself, only half listening to Ben's explanation. "just once, can we just be upfront about what sort of cosmic mess they had the misfortune to land in when they fell out of the sky?" He was familiar with Ben's interpretation of the rules governing existence on the Island: Protect the Island. Tell no one. Trust no one. He did not believe that is what was meant when the rules were made.

"All right, I understand," He interrupted, holding up a hand for silence, cutting off further recounting the events surrounding the crash, "I will need to speak with Jacob."

He took his leave of Ben and made his way across the compound to his bungalow, lost in thought and outwardly unperturbed by the frenetic activity around him. The tension in the air had an electrical buzz as people rushed to and fro. Even those folks involved in ordinary daily activities like tending the garden or hanging wash on the line seemed hyper-charged and on alert. Richard found it odd yet sadly predictable that these people would make negative assumptions and jump straight to dire conclusions, would skip over the emotional response of compassion and move directly to mistrust, fear and judgment. The scene in the compound was somehow like the settlers in the American West circling the wagons for protection; however it seemed to him that the ones needing protecting were the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815.

Jet-lagged and frankly a bit disgusted Richard left them for now to their own devices, taking with him the flight manifest and approximate accounting of who had and had not survived the crash. It appeared to him that Ben was enacting more of the same selfishness, lies, deceit, and manipulation he had seen from the Island's succession of leaders, decade upon decade. He hoped upon further reflection he would discover he was wrong.

He caught sight briefly of Juliet from afar as he crossed the yard. Her expression was drawn and tense. She rarely betrayed emotion in her face anyway, but even from this distance there seemed to be an added aura of resignation. Perhaps he was just projecting onto her his own negative feelings about the whole business with her sister but like Scarlett O'Hara he would think about that tomorrow.

Once home he methodically unpacked his suitcase. Richard found the activity calming. It allowed him to focus his thoughts: Jacket on the hook by the front door; toiletries behind the mirror in the bathroom; Shoes in the closet; dirty clothes skipping the laundry hamper and put directly into the washer. Satisfied at last that everything was in order he took the list and his reading glassesinto the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He read it over several times as he waited for brewing to finish. To him, it was just a litany of names; names of the living, names of the dead. He had no context for any of them to make them human or their condition personal, to give him reason to mourn or be glad. He assumed each of them had people waiting at LAX that were now worried, praying for the best and fearing the worst.

For the second time in as many days he thought of Isabel and his children. In this information age news of the plane's disappearance was disseminated almost as soon as it lost contact with air traffic control. Back in his time news took much longer to travel. It was likely months, maybe years before anyone realized the Black Rock had run into trouble and not arrived at its destination. Longer still before anyone declared the ship lost forever and all aboard her dead.

He could not say how his wife had mourned him but he could vividly remember the throes of grieving her. Long after Jacob saved him and he was born to this new life, the emptiness of his loss lay like a lead weight in his arms where the warmth and softness of his beloved Isabel should be. The torrential squalls that soaked the Island almost daily rained from the sky tears he shed for the life that would have been and would never be. The physical hunger for her touch, her kiss, her smile, her laughter; the need of her presence, her counsel, her comfort; would crash over him as waves beating against rocks on the shore line, knocking him to his knees leaving him gasping for breath.

In the early years on the Island he kept a record of the passing of time. He took comfort in imagining Isabel with their sons and Milli becoming adults, marrying, having children and grandchildren of their own. Richard stopped counting the years the day he realized it was impossible for his wife to still live. On that day, Ricardus of Barcelona by way of London, First-mate to Captain Hanso, Husband to Isabel and Father to Esteban, Diego and Milagros, ceased to exist and only Richard Alpert, the de facto Grand Vizier to his ersatz Lord Jacob of this incredible, inexplicable Island remained.

Returning his attention to the problem at hand, Richard took his coffee and settled in to a more comfortable chair in the living room where he considered how he and the Island's people had dealt with intruders in the past. The poor souls on this list were not intruders per se more like accidental tourists. However, one of the immutable rules of the Island is this: If the Island has allowed you, nay, has chosen you to come, once here you do not leave without severe consequences. With very few exceptions, that has been the case for as long as Richard could remember. The instructions concerning those who are not "called" yet still discover the Island's existence are not so clear.

An entire unit of the United States Army was eliminated back in the 1950's. Killing even one other human being under any circumstances is a sad and sickening thing, but in that instance, killing an entire unit, Richard could find the action justifiable. Its presence which included a mega ton atomic bomb had been a genuine threat to their existence, even to the Island itself.

Then there was the group of scientists, researchers from France who stumbled onto the island in the 1980's. Most of them had died or been killed by what his people called "the monster", a darkly nihilistic and exceedingly violent force on the island. One woman remained. Their leader at the time had decided the French woman was a threat and ordered the two of the youngest members of their community the repugnant task of killing her too. The baby girl was a surprise. The woman had been pregnant when she was marooned there and given birth alone on the Island. Ironically it was a twenty-something Benjamin Linus who defied those orders and allowed both mother and child to live. To save them he took the infant and raised Alexandra as his own daughter.

The Dharma Initiative presence started out well enough. They had been a hippie-esque, peace-love-and-namaste commune with noble yet ultimately misguided intentions of saving the world. They had forged a truce with his people and maintained a mostly peaceful though not trusting coexistence for decades before the decision was made in the early '90's to remove them as well. Gassing an entire community of people at Ben's behest was not what Richard would consider his or Ben's or in general humanity's finest hour.

The army came to the island intentionally. The Dharma Initiative and the French researchers also sought this place out. The 342 people on this list in front of him were not trying to find the Island. They were on their way somewhere else, living lives that had nothing to do with it, journeying together at least as far as Los Angeles, California. This is most definitely not LA or LAX.

At this moment he had no idea how he could avoid history repeating itself a fourth time with these people. There were children on this flight. There are parents somewhere in Los Angeles frantic, heartbroken. This Island seemed to be about nothing but death, at least it appeared that way to him who could not die

It had grown dark outside and his coffee was now cold. A knock at the door broke the silence. Richard turned on the lamp next to his chair, set aside his papers and glasses, before rising to face who he thought surely was Ben with an update on his "damage control."

"Hello Richard." The man standing before him was not Ben.

"You wanted to see me. Here I am."

Richard blinked hard and swallowed. His jaw fell open slightly as if to speak but no words came out of his mouth. He simply stared.

"May I come in?"

Still speechless, Richard nodded and stepped away from the door allowing the other man to enter. Finding his voice as he closed the door behind him he managed politely, "Good to see you, Jacob."


	3. Chapter 3

III

Jacob entered the room and his presence filled it so fully, so palpably that Richard involuntarily took a step back. He usually met him out of doors on the beach or rarely in the Temple. In the large open spaces Jacob seemed in proportion to his surroundings, here in this small house it was suddenly cramped and there was nowhere to hide.

They held each other's gaze in intense silence.

"You're lying"

Richard paused before answering, "Yes. Yes, I am."

The stand-off continued for some moments before Jacob seated himself on the edge of the couch, leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands together at his chin. Richard paced the room gathering his thoughts, attempting to sift fact from emotion, reason from reaction.

Finally, he asked "Did you do this?"

"Excuse me. Did I do what? Did I cause the plane to crash?"

"No...Yes... No. I mean, Did you? "

"You think I brought them here."

"Well, who else? How have people found this Island in the past…unless it is that you summon them? This place remains hidden for decades at a time and then mysteriously a ship crashes, an army lands, the hippies invade! We have played out this scenario time and time again, old friend; it is nothing new. "

"This time it bothers you. "

Richard stopped pacing and looked hard at the man across the room "Yes, of course it bothers me! What is left of a jetliner and some 342 people just fell out of the sky and now I have to clean up the mess. Things don't work out so well around here when strangers drop in – in case you hadn't noticed," he quipped sarcastically.

Richard retrieved his coffee mug and Ben's lists of passengers from the table. "Here, take a look at this, all these names. These are the people Ben will inevitably have me kill for you." He handed off the sheaf of papers to Jacob before continuing. "So, please. Give me a straight answer. Did you do this?"

Jacob made no reply. He simply returned Richard's intense stare, cold blue eyes locked with imploring brown.

"There were children on that flight. Did you know that? Children! Children who are hurt and frightened and alone and crying for their parents -- who happen waiting for them thousands of miles away in Los Angeles!" He continued incredulous.

"Were you bored?" He said, grasping for any explanation to make sense of the situation. "Things have become too quiet for you around here and you wanted a new diversion? Is that it?"

"This time you have gone too far! For my sanity, there had better be a very good reason! These people had lives, Jacob! They weren't looking for the Island like the others. These people were on their way somewhere else. They had families, careers, friends and hosts of people counting on them. And now they are gone." He stopped suddenly, voice breaking with emotion.

Richard retreated to the kitchen and rinsed his cup in the sink, an action gauged to buy himself time to regain his faltering composure. He rarely spoke his mind this freely with anyone. He was circumspect in expressing his opinions to Ben and the others he advised so as not to exert undue influence. With Jacob he could be open but most often deferred to the other man out of respect for the unique origin of their relationship.

Jacob waited patiently, listening, having paid only cursory attention to the list of passengers in his hand.

Richard did not return to the living room but instead remained at the sink gazing out the kitchen window, past his reflection, into the dark. " Todos que he conocido o he amado se han ido. . .Isabel, Esteban, Diego, Milagros...Mi esposa y mis hijos estaban dependiendo en mí a regresar a casa, a cuidar de ellos, a mantenerlos… ¿Qué les pasó cuando nunca regresé? Me dio mi vida pero me la quitó al mismo tiempo. Yo respire y camino y duermo y hago lo que quiera, pero ¿estoy vivo? Ahora como no hay nadie que conozca mi nombre, ¿quién me ama? ¿Existo yo?

He stared at the man reflected in the window sadly, letting his words hang in the air between them. "You can replace me," he averred quietly. "If you are able to bring people here at will, then you don't need me. Recruit someone else. Let me die, Jacob. Your grand experiment in free will and human nature, or whatever this is, will continue to play out just fine without me." He flashed a sidelong glance across the room as if expecting or hoping for a response. When none came, he continued, resigned, "All the passengers and crew of Flight 815 are dead. The handful who survived might as well be since they're stuck here for the rest of their lives, however long or short a time that might be. Sooner or later the killing will start all over again. It is always the same."

"My presence makes no difference. Nothing I do or say will break the chain of destructive, selfish, violent behavior…no matter what I do." Richard concluded, laying his mug on the drain board and turning to face Jacob. "You tell me that in the end it will all be different. That all of this is just...progress. I have seen nothing to support that. I want to believe you. Truly I do. But show me; tell me how, because this feels like an exercise in futility and I just don't have the stomach for it."

Jacob rose from the sofa, crossed the room to where Richard stood _"_It is not up to you, my friend. It is not up to you to change them, to change things." Laying a hand on Richard's shoulder, "It is already different this time around" he insisted, "Trust me. Please. There are people on that plane who will help you. There are a few among them whom I have chosen. You will not always have me, but you will not be alone in this much longer."

'Who are they? Tell me their names?" Richard turned quickly to face Jacob, "I'll find them and bring them to you." His eagerness dissipated suddenly. "Wait, What?" alternately confused and agitated, he searched Jacob's expression for answers. "What do you mean you won't be with me...? Where are you going?"

"No, Richard. Not now. You will know all these things in time. Be patient. The details are not important." He said calmly, "You are perfectly correct, what is imperative at the moment is that we take care of the children. Bring them here. Ben will object, of course, but remind him of Alexandra."

"You aren't going to explain…"

"No"

"You brought the plane here?"

"No."

"But…" Richard started to interrupt, but Jacob cut him off and continued,

"-- It crashed because of the electromagnetic pulse emitted from the Island as a result of the Dharma Initiative's experiments. I did not pull the plane out of the sky."

"All right then you allowed it to come"

"Semantics, Richard" He said, rolling his eyes. "It is late. I am going to leave you now. "

Moving toward the door, he added, "It was a nice thing you tried to do for Juliet. That is one of the traits I value so much in you. Your capacity for compassion. Good night, my friend." He turned and embraced the silent, brooding man before disappearing into the shadows.

The room which once had seemed unable to contain him now felt cavernous and cold when bereft of Jacob's presence, as if all light and life had left with him. Richard slowly closed the door. He had no more answers now than he did a few hours before, only more questions; more disturbing, unsettling questions. The prospect of a time coming soon when he would be left without even Jacob gave him pause. He had not envisioned even this unnaturally long life continuing without him.

Richard gathered the passenger list, flipped on the stereo and sat once again to consider this new information. Strains of Debussy Clair de Lune floated through the room and mixed with night sounds of the trade winds blowing through the palms which would on any other night be soothing. He felt powerless. Events were unfolding, he now knew, over which he had no control. Over the past hundred or so years he had required the people on numerous occasions to trust him, blindly perhaps, and without question. Now it was his turn. He could not know the identities of the ones Jacob had chosen on that flight. For now he was alone. He doubted his ability to face the unseen challenges that lay ahead yet he would choose once again to trust Jacob that when he needed help it would be there.

Later as he readied for bed, Richard thought back to the faith in which he had found strength, courage, discernment and succor in the past, in his long ago past. the life he had before the Island and Jacob. He had a vision of his sons curled up with their mother on their bed, hands folded, heads bowed, trying quite seriously and as studiously as young squirmy boys could muster to recite their bedtime devotions. With an ache in his heart at the memory, Richard slid to the floor beside his bed, lay his head in his hands and, in barely a whisper, joined their ghostly voices in prayer…

"Pater noster, qui es in coelis, sanctifactur nomen tuum. Adventiat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in coelo et in terra..."

* * *

Author notes on Chapter Three:

Thanks to my friend Nicole for the translation into Spanish of the following passage:

"Everyone I have ever known or loved is gone… Isabel, Esteban, Diego, Milagros. My wife and my children were depending on me to come home, to take care of them, to provide for them… what happened to them when I never came back? You gave me my life but you took my life away at the same time. I breathe. I walk. I eat. I sleep. I do your bidding, but am I alive? Now that there is no one left who knows my name, who loves me, do I even exist?"

The last bit is of course a fragment of the Lord's Prayer in Latin...with which being a Catholic from mid-19thC Spain (way, way, way before Vatican II) Richard would be familiar.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

Richard awoke groggy, suffering from a headache with waves of nausea that suggested a hangover except he knew for a fact that he had not been drinking. The altercation with Jacob the night before was real and neither alcohol induced nor a hallucination. In a weak moment he had allowed his emotions free reign and one hundred and fifty years of pent up frustration, loneliness and despair spewed from his lips in a vindictive, vituperative explosion of rage and pain. And self pity.

He had mocked Jacob…to his face.

"Oh. My. God. I am such an ass…" Richard groaned, cursing himself, casting back the covers and rolling out of bed. "Why have you put up with me this long, Jacob, since apparently you do not have to…." He had instructions from Jacob and nothing would be gained by procrastinating. Forty-five minutes later he emerged from his bungalow, showered, neatly dressed, fed, caffeinated, and composed, as ready as he could be to face the others. Wearing a mask of confidence he did not feel, Richard proceeded to Ben's office.

"How is your damage control going? Have you decided what to do about the people on our beach? He asked without preamble, startling the other man who was sitting at a computer and staring intently at the feed from a surveillance camera monitoring some outer reaches of the Island."

"For your information Richard I don't think it wise to engage the intruders directly at this time. We have the advantage as long as they are unaware of our existence. We maintain the upper hand against them."

"They are not intruders, Ben. They are just people. Their plane merely crashed on our beach. As human beings we have an obligation to help them. You are aware there were children on that flight."

"Of course I am aware of the children." Ben countered condescendingly "While that is a very nice sentiment, Richard and I do applaud your altruistic, humanitarian intentions, I absolutely will not make us vulnerable by exposing ourselves to them prematurely. We do not know these peopl_e_. That in itself makes them a threat."

"You will not to sacrifice the children to keep our presence secret. This is not a war and they are not collateral damage"

"I am the leader and I will decide if or when we reveal ourselves to them. That time is not now. We need more information about them first."

Richard raised an eyebrow and stared at Ben. They seemed at an impasse; Words hung in the air and it was quiet between them for a few moments. Ben returned his attention to the computer screen on the desk in front of him as if to dismiss the subject and Richard. Undaunted, Richard casually wandered through the room in silence, noting the books on Ben's shelves, the art on the walls, and finally a photograph on the desk which he picked up and examined pointedly.

"You took a risk once revealing our existence to a stranger on behalf of a child…when you rescued Alexandra and spared her mother's life" said Richard quietly but firmly, returning the picture of Ben and his daughter to its former place. "Do it again, Ben. Bring the children here."

Ben did not look up from his computer screen although he suddenly blanched and stopped typing at the keyboard. He made no comment in reply. An almost imperceptible nod was the only indication he had heard what Richard said. "Fine, then. It's settled."

Taking his leave of Ben, Richard opened the outer office door quickly, blindsiding an unsuspecting Juliet, nearly knocking her over. The file Dr. Burke had been reviewing along with several other reports and x-rays she had been carrying ended up in a jumbled mess on the ground.

"Would you watch where you're going? For crying out loud…" exclaimed Juliet, rebounding from the blow and bending to retrieve her papers. "Oh, it's you."

Richard knelt and began to stack the papers into something of an order, "Excuse me, Juliet. I'm so sorry. Let me help"

"No! Thank you, Richard." spat Juliet, shifting from annoyance to anger. "I can manage just fine on my own." Snapping the file from his hand, she added, "Haven't you helped me quite enough?" She paused, looked up at him, the angry fire in her blue eyes unquenched by brimming tears. "You taunt me with pictures of my family but keep them just out of my reach. I'm your prisoner here. I get that. I'm never going home and if I want my sister and nephew to be healthy and safe, I have to play by your rules. I do not--however-- have to like it. "

Juliet stood, turned on her heel and stormed through the door into the building, letting it slam forcefully behind her. Richard stared after her, dumbfounded. The sound reverberated through the courtyard. A few workers by the recreation center looked up, curious. Richard smiled uncomfortably and gave a slight wave.

Other than Juliet's outburst it appeared to Richard things had settled down across the barracks and compound. There was no lingering tension from the excitement of the previous few days. Human beings have short attention spans, and when no imminent threat was perceived from the plane crash or its survivors, most of the others continued about their business, oblivious to the machinations of their leader and his advisor.

Any relief Richard had felt that so little argument was needed to influence Ben evaporated when that door banged shut. Juliet blamed him for her predicament. He was responsible for bringing her to the Island. But Ben had reneged on the terms she agreed to in coming here three years ago and not allowed her to go home. Juliet held him responsible for that as well. Like that road to hell, checking up on Juliet's family was emotional blackmail, couched in good intentions. That streak of compassion Jacob is so fond of in him had proved utterly worthless in dealing with Dr. Burke.

Richard liked to think after all these years he understood the dynamics of the Island, of Jacob's relationship with himself and the others and their succession of leaders. Up until last night he believed he could account for all the forces at work in this unusual, magical place. It was, however, an incorrect assumption. Richard realized if Jacob had found it necessary to enlist help and had resorted to taking down a jetliner to get it then something was seriously wrong.

It was not comforting to be told help was on its way to face a threat that – prior to last night -- he had had no idea even existed. Something was going to happen that would take Jacob from the Island, from him. Jacob said this not in anger as a punishment for his effrontery last night but as a warning for the future. Richard trusted his word was true. The crash of Oceanic Flight 815 was the beginning of the end of the human drama being played out on the Island; and Jacob would not be there with him when it was all over.

Feeling more disconsolate than ever and still nauseous, Richard made his way back home. His heart and mind on overload. He needed some rest if he was to think clearly and make sense of it all. He planned to indulge in some escapist reading and a cigar. While in Miami chasing down Juliet's sister he had picked up the latest paperback novel by Arturo Perez-Reverte, _El caballero del jubon amarillo_, in which Captain Alatriste clashes with King Phillip IV of Spain. He hoped the swashbuckling captain would divert him, though today the plot might mirror too closely the real life cause of his increasingly debilitating headache.

Once home, he retrieved the paperback and his glasses from the bedside table and a cigar from the pocket of the suit jacket he wore on the plane, took a full dose of aspirin with a glass of water from the bathroom, turned the stereo to some soft jazz and settled into the arm chair in his living room. Doing so, an envelope on the table in front of him caught his eye. He did not remember it being there when he left the house that morning but it was near where Jacob had been sitting and might have been overlooked..

The envelope was addressed to him. Richard opened the letter, his book forgotten, and read in Jacob's hand…

"_Dear Richard,_

_There was a man in American Radio who used to tell his listening audience "the rest of the story." You deserve to know the rest of yours. _

_When the Black Rock ran aground, you were nearly dead. I had watched you battle the storm with your captain and crew. I saw your bravery and strength, your unwavering loyalty. You willingly put aside your own safety to try to save them. And in the end when all was lost, I stepped in and saved you. I gave you back your life, but as you know you are not as you were before. If it had been within my power you would have lived a long life with your family and never known me at all. But what was done was done and I could not send you back to them. There are limits to what even I can do. I know how much this life has cost you. In the end I hope you understand and do not think me heartless to have kept you with me all this time... I hope you will find I did the right thing._

_I did not leave them wanting, Richard. I could not return their father and husband, but I took care of them. Isabel was lonely and ached terribly for your return—I could not erase that pain, but she never went hungry or without a home. She never remarried but over time found comfort, even joy in many things._

_They stayed in London hoping you would return but finally moved back to live with Isabel's family outside Barcelona when her mother fell ill. Isabel nursed her mother for three years and took over the management of her parents' estate upon their deaths._

_After you left Esteban found his calling in the church. He became a Franciscan priest, dedicated his life to teaching and the establishment of Missions in California._ _ Diego inherited your love of the sea. He had a knack for business, a gift for ship design and was a successful ship builder in Bilbao where he met and married Ana Linda. They raised a large happy, family. You had three grandsons and two granddaughters from that union._

_It is as you always suspected, the baby, Milagros is your miracle. She was educated like her brothers at a time when women were denied all but minimal instruction. She became a strong resourceful woman. She married a man who was her intellectual equal, who respected and revered her. They had only one child, a daughter._

_But strong daughters seem to be the way of your descendents. Richard. The line continues through five more generations to a young woman who will be of great help to you. Like her mother and grandmothers before her she is strong, intelligent, resourceful, loyal and very brave. No, she is not on the plane, not this plane. Be patient. When you meet you will know her, I promise, though I cannot tell you more right now. _

_Just as Rachel and Julian are cared for in Juliet's absence so were Isabel and your children. I pray learning of their fate will ease your mind and strengthen you to face what lies ahead. I need you on my side, by my side Richard. You are my liaison, my vizier, to Ben and the others,_

… _But most of all you are my friend._

_Jacob"_

He read the letter through three times, first in disbelief, then in sorrow for the family he had lost, and finally with joy for the family they had become. He took his cigar outside to the front porch, lit it and read the letter a fourth time with gratitude for his friend.

"Be safe, mi hija, wherever you are." whispered Richard aloud to his great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter somewhere in the world, "Te quiero."

In that moment he knew what he could do for Juliet. He snuffed out his cigar, carefully folded the letter from Jacob and tucked it back inside his book, went to his room and took the memory card out of the digital camera he had used to record Rachel and Julian on the playground. Richard caught up with the doctor outside her lab.

"Juliet! Please wait. I need to talk to you," called Richard.

"I have nothing to say to you, Richard. The only thing I am interested in hearing from you is that I am going home. And we both know that is not going to happen," responded Juliet, civilly, turning as if to walk back into the lab away from him.

"I wanted to explain…' he said, catching her by the elbow and turning her toward him gently. " Please, Juliet. Hear me out. I wanted to tell you why I went to see Rachel and Julian."

"If it wasn't to torment me with what I cannot have and insure I will continue my work – when you know as well as I do this research is futile, I am at a dead end. There is nothing more I can do here --- then why was it?"

He released her arms and she did not walk away but waited for him to continue.

"Did you know I had a family once? Before I came here? I left my wife and children back in England. I was on that ship, the Black Rock. You know the one that is rotting in the jungle. There was a storm and I… " Richard stammered, unsure where to begin.

"Get to the point, Richard," urged Juliet, not unkindly.

"OK, never mind... anyway…The point is I didn't know this would happen when I recruited you to the Island. I didn't know you would be stuck here and not allowed to go home. Maybe Ben didn't either. I am not always sure what he is thinking. Please believe me. When I realized your research had reached a dead end and it could not fix anything, I approached him about sending you back. But as always he had other plans. I know how much you miss your family, Juliet. I know how much I still miss mine. I just thought that seeing your sister and her son so healthy and happy would somehow make it easier for you to stay. I am deeply sorry if I was wrong."

Taking her hand, he put the memory card into her palm and closed her fingers over it.

"Here is the recording I made of them. One of the guys from security will know how to transfer this to your computer. I'm not very good with technology. There's some extra footage of Julian on the slide and eating his Happy Meal. He really likes Chicken McNuggets."

"Thank you." She said quietly, looking up to meet his gaze for the first time then added, "I forgive you, Richard."


	5. Chapter 5

"_The quality of mercy is not strained.  
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven  
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:  
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.  
Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes  
The throned monarch better than his crown.  
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,  
The attribute to awe and majesty,  
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.  
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;  
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;  
It is an attribute of God himself;  
And earthly power doth then show like God's  
When mercy seasons justice."_

The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare

V

"I forgive you" she said…

There was much kindness and compassion contained in those few words. Juliet's beatific smile shone light in to the dark recesses of Richard's very old, sad soul. Her absolution took him by surprise, and sent him reeling, at least internally, as if he suddenly lost his balance.

He did not notice at first that she had continued speaking.

"…You didn't force me to come here, Richard." Juliet was saying, "And you are not the one forcing me to stay. I understand that. We are in the same boat, you and me."

Richard realized he wasn't paying attention, "Pardon? How's that?"

"This isn't what either of us signed on for, but it is what it is. We do what we have to do." Juliet explained. "And, Richard, I am sorry for lashing out at you the way I did earlier today."

"It's ok, Juliet. I…I forgive you as well." he replied, shaking off the emotional vertigo.

For the moment Richard could think of nothing more to say, excused himself and began walking back across the compound. He was rendered speechless not for lack of words but from the presence of too many, so much information crowding his thoughts that he had not had the time to process and understand.

In the past 48 hours he had traveled across at least one too many time zones from Miami to the Island, been briefed by Ben about the plane crash and its survivors; argued with Jacob over the implications of the crash, and argued again with Ben over what to do in response. Juliet had yelled at him for actions she misunderstood and with equally little warning had changed her mind and forgiven him. It was exhausting!

But still, coping with all that was a piece of cake compared to the difficulty he was having in wrapping his mind around the news of his family, of the coming danger and of the threat of Jacob's death. All of this together sent his world a little off its axis.

What else could it be? Richard wondered. He could not envision circumstances in which Jacob would voluntarily leave the Island. Never had it occurred to him that he could be left here, alive, without Jacob. He had not entertained the possibility there was anything, anyone, with the power to separate Jacob from the Island. A shudder went down Richard's spine that had nothing to do with the tropical breeze.

His thoughts were becoming too philosophical, too existential, and too metaphysical to manage. He needed time and space to breathe. Instinctively Richard veered off into the jungle instead of turning up the sidewalk toward his house. It was late afternoon and the shadows were growing long though it was not yet becoming difficult to see his way through the trees and vines. Even so after so many years the entirety of the Island was more familiar to him than the docks of London or his home in Spain had ever been. He could navigate here without the sun or the stars to guide him.

Richard cast all his questions aside for the moment and focused instead on the sheer physicality of hiking vigorously through the jungle and up the side of the mountain. He felt the quickness of his breath in his lungs and the heavy pounding of his heart as his organs pushed hard to move enough oxygen to sustain the straining muscles in his arms, legs and torso.

"It is what it is."

Juliet's words looped over and over in his mind matching the rhythm of his breathing, of his steps as he climbed higher up the mountainside, out of the jungle past the tree line. "It is what it is" He repeated aloud as he reached the clearing at the top of the hill, looking back down the valley over the tops of the trees in the general direction of the compound and across the open sea to the horizon. It is a very Zen sentiment coming from the good doctor, thought Richard absently as he found a place to rest.

As Richard sat cross legged on the ground his ragged, labored breathing gradually became slow and steady; his heart beat, no longer racing from exertion, returned to its natural even and measured pace. He emptied his too crowded, worried, confused mind of all thoughts, releasing them to be blown gently out to sea on the warm, fragrant trade winds that continuously caressed the Island.

From this perspective atop the mountain he could not see the actual buildings below where he and his people now lived. From this vantage point he could not make out the wreckage of Flight 815. At this height there were only trees below and rock and sky and sea. With little effort he could remember the way the Island looked to him when he first opened his eyes to this new life, after London, after the shipwreck, after Jacob saved him.

One hundred and fifty years away from priest, confessional, Mass or Eucharist had nudged Richard to expand his understanding and experience of the spiritual. He was fairly certain the Catholic clergy of his day would not have approved of Buddhist mindfulness meditation, or the mantra he repeated, or known quite what to do with Jacob, whatever sort of god he is. But that was then and he was here now.

"…accept the things I cannot change… and the wisdom to know the difference…"

Richard was fairly certain he did not need a twelve-step program for dealing with life on the Island exactly but the serenity prayer seemed to apply in this case too.

Soon a familiar voice came out of the shadows behind him, "Want some company?"

"Sure" replied Richard, nodding without turning to confirm who it was that spoke. He was neither particularly surprised by Jacob's visit nor curious how he knew where to find him.

Jacob leaned against a nearby rock and looked up at the early evening stars beginning to appear overhead. "You ok?"

"Yeah...I just needed some space to think."

"Figured it all out yet?"

"You are kidding, right?" Richard replied "No, no, not at all. I haven't figured anything out."

"Let me help." Jacob urged, gently.

"Before I say anything else, you have to know, I am sorry… sorry for being so hateful and rude, so full of self-pity."

"I know"

"I behaved like a petulant child. "

"Yes…as a matter of fact, you did." acknowledged Jacob.

'Contrary to what I said last night, I don't really want you to replace me; I don't want to leave you, and I am not ready to die." Richard continued earnestly. "I am deeply grateful to you for taking care of Isabel and my children. I am sorry for doubting you, for blaming you."

"It's alright, Richard," interrupted Jacob reassuringly "I know that too."

"Right, you know everything. So, I don't need to tell you of my talk with Ben about the children and the survivors? And you already know I gave Juliet the tape I made of her sister and nephew in Miami?"

"Oh come on, Richard" Jacob said "I know what motivates people; I know the human spirit and the human heart, however, you do have to fill me in on the details." Then he continued with a chuckle"…though I could probably make a pretty good guess."

"Yes, I bet you could"

Richard was silent for while then sighed audibly, "You were serious. Things really are different this time, aren't they? With the people from Flight 815, I mean." His voice reached out softly through the darkness,

"You could say that."

"Over the years I have come to think of this – all of this, existence—"he said gesturing in the dark, arms spread wide "as your experiment or a game. The people who have come here over the years are players; the Island is the arena and I'm the game show host or maybe it's a laboratory and I am the research assistant. You are my lord, and I am your vizier."

Richard rose and began pacing as he spoke. "Maybe that's a little crass or just too simplistic an interpretation?" he said glancing over his shoulder toward Jacob for confirmation without missing a step. "But it is bigger than that isn't it? It's not really a game at all. There is something more at stake here than just proving a point to yourself."

Richard stopped suddenly, directly in front of Jacob. The two stood toe to toe, eye to eye, unwavering "For the first time, Jacob, I don't think I know what is going on...and I am not sure I am ready for what is going to happen. What happens if we lose?"

"We are not going to lose."

"Are you sure? This contest or whatever it is could kill you. Am I right? You can die."

"Yes"

"Are you going to? "

"We all die eventually, Richard, even me."

At this Richard stepped back abruptly a pace, obviously agitated by what he heard. "But…Look at me, Jacob! I haven't aged a day in one hundred and fifty years." He stretched his arms out toward Jacob, palms upward, in supplication, "You did this to me. I just assumed that meant at least you were immortal…all powerful…"

"Think, Richard. Remember the stories of the gods?" Jacob reached out and grasped Richard's outstretched hands and looked squarely into his dark searching eyes. "The Greeks, the Norse, the Egyptians, in all their stories, in all our stories, there are always loop holes, fine print, caveats, exceptions. We all have weaknesses. Every one of us is Achilles with a vulnerable heel. It has always been this way. But Richard, no one who dies, whether mortal or a god is truly lost."

"So you'll come back; you won't really be dead." said Richard quickly, willfully misunderstanding Jacob yet painfully aware he sounded ridiculous and desperate.

"No, Richard, dead is dead" he retorted, releasing Richard's hands. "I will not be some reanimated corpse tromping around the Island like a zombie!" he said, mimicking the heavy gait of the Hollywood Undead.

Seeing Richard's still troubled expression, Jacob continued more kindly "But there is life beyond the physical, material realm. You know this. You have seen it. If in this conflict it happens that I die, then yes, I will be dead in the material sense but I will not be gone. Try to understand. I cannot explain it any more clearly than this to you now."

"I am really getting tired of you saying that…."

"I know that too." Jacob grinned broadly, eyes shining even by starlight.

"I'm being serious, Jacob…Tell me: we are the good guys, aren't we?"

"Richard, do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course I do"

"Just take care of them."

"I have been doing that for a really long time, Jacob"

"I mean all of them. Not only Ben and the others or the people from Flight 815. Can you care for those who have yet to come to the Island, even the ones who want to kill me? Do you trust me that it will all work out in the end, despite any appearances to the contrary?"

"Sure, Jacob, whatever you say. I just don't enjoy doing things blindly. I wish you would tell me more. But, yes, I will do whatever you ask. What is the problem?" slightly confused by Jacob's insistent questioning.

"¿Ricardos, me quieres? ¿Confios en mi?"

"Señor, tú lo sabes todo; tú sabes que te quiero, confio en ti"

"There is no problem. That is all I need to know."

Fin.


End file.
